LINCOLN DREAMS

It seems to me that there are two kinds of Americans. You are either a Washington or a Lincoln. I have discovered that I am definitely a Lincoln. Okay, this shouldn't come as a big surprise to anyone. But, being in the presence of the major monuments and memorials of Washington DC made this more manifest, more real for me, than I could have ever imagined.

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Lincoln on his brooding throne, staring out over the Reflecting Pool at the giant phallus of power that was erected to Washington, seems more my kind of guy. I can relate to the melancholy, the loneliness, the feeling of having to pick up the pieces for others, the brooding, the weariness. I know the sadness in his eyes and his slight grimace.

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I can understand the words that are engraved into the wall of the Lincoln Bay of the National Cathedral.

"Abraham Lincoln / whose lonely soul / God kindled / is here remembered / by a people / their conflict healed / by the truth / that marches on"

They speak to me in a way that stories about the valor and vigor of Washington cannot.

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I stumbled upon Lincoln wherever I looked. The Union and Confederate cannon on the battlefield of Manassas (Bull Run). The gravestones of Arlington National Cemetery. The National Archives. The Library of Congress. The monuments and memorials to the Union dead and the Confederate dead, known and unknown.

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I even stumbled by happenstance upon the grave of Robert Todd Lincoln, son of Abraham Lincoln, in Arlington National Cemetery. He is buried there with his wife and son. I stood there for some time staring at the the words on the sarcophagus: "Abraham Lincoln II," grandson of Abraham Lincoln I. Here the son and the grandson lie, looking out over the city that Lincoln's Army defended during the Civil War.



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The city may be named after Washington, but the ghost of Lincoln haunts its streets, its fields, its people. I am certain that he walks there at night when we are asleep, dreaming.

DC DREAMS

Washington DC is as though a fever dream. I dream of hot, humid air that fuels further dreams.

I dream of books. The Library of Congress. A recreation of the original collection of Thomas Jefferson's books. The main main reading room. The National Archives. The foundational documents that a country's own dreams were built upon. Magna Carta. Declaration of Independence. Constitution. Bill of Rights.

I dream of art. Sculpture. Paintings. Multimedia extravaganzas. Lichtensteins and Warhols. Oldenburgs and Giacomettis. City planning. Architecture. L'Enfant. Pope. Tuscan, Ionic, Doric, Corinthian, Composite columns. Gargoyles and adornments. Mosaics. Statues, mythical and historical and both. Poseidon. Gallatin. Jackson. Washington. Lincoln.

I dream of beer. Saranac Trail Mix. Pale Ale. IPA. Amber Lager. Brown. Black Forest. Black & Tan. Capitol City Brewing. The original downtown DC location. Belgian Boysenberry. Amber Waves. Capitol Kölsch. Prohibition Porter. A Capitol Rib-eye steak, with its beer bourbon glaze to accompany.

I dream of wandering amongst monuments and memorials. Jefferson. Washington. Lincoln. World War II. Korea. Vietnam. The resting places of dead presidents. Washington. FDR. Wilson. Kennedy. The battlefields and cemeteries of dead soldiers. First Manassas. Second Manassas. Confederate. Union. Arlington National Cemetery. The Tomb of the Unknowns. The sound of cicadas drifting through deciduous trees. Magnolias.

I dream of flying six-and-one-half miles above the earth. Seattle to Washington DC. And back. The patchwork of America below. Itself dreaming.

After a week, the fever breaks. I am back in my library. Reading. Writing. Typing.

UTILILTY ACCESS COVERS

Newly born into the world, your water has been sampled, your pressure has been checked.

Cylindrical. Freshly painted yellow by the Pipe Cowboy. Metal. Water. Erect.

The signifier of the new water loop. The central point.

Guarding a bevy of posts and poles that diagnose and monitor, report and alert, you alone allow access to the main. You stand firm, basking in your importance.

You point skyward to the clouds that drip their essence onto soil and pavement and roofs, to be gathered in gutters and gullies, delivered to swales and ponds and aquifers, whereupon their waters will return to you, where you point skyward.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

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(And then they secretly wrapped you. For safekeeping.)

SHOWCASE TACOMA DREAMS - MISCELLANEOUS DREAMS

Clockwise from upper left: (1) Weekly Volcano's Lava Tube black light poster display; (2) a knit creature installed on utility pipes near The Helm's Whale; (3) a paper bag hat/mask; and (4) chalk art by Aimee Zhou.

Showcase Tacoma was filled with so many sights and sounds and smells (such as Hot Rod Dog's mozzarella bratwursts, supplied by Blue Max Sausage Company of Puyallup!) that it boggled the mind. The child and I wandered and viewed and participated in the wonders of this local arts festival for its two day run.

We will return next year for more.

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Pictures of additional Showcase Tacoma goodness are available at the troysworktable Flickr page.

SHOWCASE TACOMA DREAMS - IN TRANSIT

InTransit by Justin Gorman was another site specific art installation that utilized an existing landmark, in this case a bus stop. Pierce Transit even closed the bus stop for the two days of Showcase Tacoma, so people could experience the multimedia installation without buses pulling up and departing every so often.

Photographs from Justin Gorman's "Reflections" series were attached to the glass of the bus stop shelter in order that they could be viewed from both sides. The "reflections" are pictures of the reflections of bus passengers as "seen" in the windows of the buses, in other words, the way that the buses "view" their riders before or after they embark on their journey. When I reflect upon it, I find this to be very fascinating. In addition to anthropomorphizing some of the machines we utilize, it also gives us a different perspective on our quotidian, and oftentimes banal, journeys.

The photographs were accompanied by videos of various bus rides and train rides (on SoundTransit's Sounder Commuter Train) Gorman took during his commute to and from work for a year. There were also blog entries kept, that were published in hard copy for the installation. Lucky "passengers" at the exhibit were treated to the artist reading from the blog while they watched videos and viewed photographs, seated on an old bus seat beneath the shelter.

It was truly a wild ride. You can take part of it online at the InTransit website.

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You can view more pictures of InTransit at the troysworktable Flickr page.

SHOWCASE TACOMA DREAMS - HOUSE & HOME

House & Home was a simple, yet evocative, installation by artist (and University of Washington Tacoma professor) Tyler Budge. He was tying the idea of home to the flooding that was occurring in the Midwest at the time of his application for the event. I liked his use of the "urban river" of Tollefson Plaza.

I also liked his use of neon orange sandbags, which echoed the orange windsocks of his to wend installation. The orange seems to depict multiple purposes. In to wend, the orange is not only a warning of the strength of the wind, but also a signifier of direction. In House & Home, the orange is not only a defense against the strength and determination of the water, but a support for the structure.

The first time I viewed House & Home, Tyler Budge was circling the sculpture, taking pictures of it from different vantage points. I was tempted to approach him to discuss the piece with him, but he seemed so intent of purpose that I decided to leave him to his work.

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I also especially liked this piece because its simplicity and utilization of space reminded me of the work of Lead Pencil Studio and their Maryhill Double. I kept finding myself drawn back to it again and again.

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You can view more pictures of House & Home at the troysworktable Flickr page.

DREAMTIME TACOMA at SHOWCASE TACOMA

Oliver Doriss Designs & Fulcrum Gallery Art Space
present
Dreamtime Tacoma
a par five odyssey

Dreamtime Tacoma was probably the most fun piece of art at Showcase Tacoma. It was an installation sculpture consisting of the topography of Tacoma. At the last minute, Oliver decided to also make it into a miniature golf course. There were various places to tee off from and the hole was located in Tacoma's Hilltop neighborhood, where Fulcrum Gallery sits.

All of the elements of the "map" were made to be durable and withstand being walked upon, hit with a golf club, and hit with a plastic golf ball. A glue gun was at the ready to reattach any of the wood block skyscrapers, tin can buildings and warehouses of the Port of Tacoma, or green sponge and foam trees that were accidentally removed during swings of the club.

The child especially liked this. She did as well during her turn playing the hole as Troy's Work Table, which was "not very."

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You can view more pictures of Dreamtime Tacoma at the troysworktable Flickr page.

A RIVER & SOUND REVIEW AT SHOWCASE TACOMA

Clockwise from upper left: (1) A River & Sound Review was part of Showcase Tacoma's Poemporium & Lit Fair; (2) singer-songwriter Scott Andrew; (3) RSR emcee Jay Bates and Tacoma poet laureate William Kupinse; and (4) award winning Spokane novelist Jess Walter.

"I love telling stories more than anything."
—Jess Walter at A River & Sound Review

What if you had a show, a performance, a literary entertainment extravaganza, and no one came? Well, it happened. A River & Sound Review had its most recent show at 5:00 p.m. on Friday 08 August 2008 in the Vicky Carwein/Keystone Auditorium at University of Washington Tacoma as part of the Showcase Tacoma arts festival, and no one came.

Well, that is not completely true. Out of the fifteen people present, three were performing, nine were members of A River & Sound Review or related to a member, one was a William Kupinse fan, and two looked completely confused about where they were. So, in an auditorium that has a capacity of approximately 120 people, three people came to see the latest RSR offering.

Everyone else missed the best show that RSR has produced.

Scott Andrew played his guitar and sang as though he were in front of a packed room. He produced enough rhythm and beat by tapping his foot that it sounded as though someone was accompanying him on drums.

William Kupinse read many poems about nature and our place in it, as well as a few about Tacoma, which made sense, since he is Tacoma's poet laureate.

Jess Walter read a poem, which he said he must be crazy to do on the heels of Kupinse. Then, rather than read from his most recent novel The Zero, a National Book Award finalist, he spoke about what it means to be a writer. He spoke about his writing relationship with Kurt Vonnegut, who acted as a "distant" mentor to him.

The best part, however, was how the three principle performers interacted with one another and improvised their individual performances based upon those of the other two. William Kupinse referenced one of Scott Andrew's songs, Jess Walter read his poem with a sense of play and a nod to William Kupinse's reading, and Scott Andrew played a song that dealt with some of the same themes of the reading of William Kupinse and the talk of Jess Walter. It was all unscripted and unplanned and perfect.

It is just too bad that you missed it!

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You can view more pictures of show #21 (RSR comes of age!) of A River & Sound Review at the troysworktable Flickr page.

SHOWCASE TACOMA DREAMS - THE TEMPEST

By happenstance, the child and I wander into the midst of an act, a scene.

The drunken monster Caliban lies passed out in the middle of the street. We sit near him as his drunken cohorts, Stephano and Trinculo, circle him, conversing, plotting.

The child sinks deeper into my lap, seduced, intrigued. Members of the cast marvel at her intensity, her devotion to the story, as she watches the action unfold.

There is magic at hand. And threats.

We sit too close, but it is too late to move.

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You can view more pictures of Shakespeare in the Parking Lot performing The Tempest at Showcase Tacoma on the troysworktable Flickr page.

SHOWCASE TACOMA DREAMS - THE HELIO SEQUENCE

I dream of musicians who live for their music.

I see a drummer who adopts a "musical autism" when he sits behind his kit, the world replaced by the beat, the rhythm, the melody. His mouth shuts and closes with the movement of his hands, the drumsticks. His body lurches and leaps, herky-jerky.

I see a vocalist who in the past shredded his vocal chords, only to be plunged into silence, and having to learn to sing again. His voice is strong once again. He is happy to be here, celebrating his twenty-eighth birthday with the city of Tacoma. His guitar quivers at his touch, his harmonica bleats its mournful tune.

I see myself twenty years ago in the kids that crowd the stage.

My ears ring.

I am happy.

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You can view more pictures of The Helio Sequence performing at Showcase Tacoma on the troysworktable Flickr page.